


Thunderstorm

by Reylo19



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Humor, Swearing, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 05:33:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18067532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reylo19/pseuds/Reylo19
Summary: My first attempt at a James x Erin fic. Pure fluff.





	Thunderstorm

‘Fuck. Me!’ Michelle exclaimed as she emerged through the front door of the Quinn house, soaking wet and a paper bag from the chippy in hand. ‘That is absolutely baltic!’ Clare, Orla, Erin and James pushed their way in behind her, tracking wet footprints on the hall carpet as the sound of rain echoed outside.  
‘Christ…’ James muttered as the teenagers shook off their soaked coats and umbrellas. ‘There’s something seriously wrong with the weather over here - I think my shoes are flooded.’ He grimaced as he pulled off one trainer, only to have rainwater spill onto the carpet.

‘Aye, there’s only something wrong with it cause it’s not English rain, ya prick,’ Michelle snapped.

‘That makes no sense.’

‘Shut up, James!’

The five made their way into the living-room, where Gerry and Granda Joe were sitting in front of the T.V. Almost immediately, the brash voice of Mary Quinn rang out from the kitchen;  
‘Is that them wains back with the chippy?’

‘Yes, Mammy,’ Erin replied as the group dumped the dinner for the evening on the table. ‘Alright, Grandad?’

Granda Joe nodded out the window, ‘Bloody torrential out there so it is.’ He glared at his son-in-law, ‘Leaving the wains to walk back in that weather. Useless Southern shite…’

‘How could I have known it was going to rain?’ Gerry said in disbelief. ‘They had umbrellas with them anyhow.’

‘Oh, is that your excuse for sending children out in the cold?’ Granda Joe scoffed. ‘Big man!’ Defeated, Gerry said nothing.

Just then, Aunt Sarah wandered in. ‘Alright, Da.’ She glanced over at the table, ‘Ooh, is that the chippy here? I am famished - this diet is taking it out of me.’ She glanced at Clare, ‘D’you know, I heard there’s one of yours working down the salon. Imagine that.’

‘What, a lesbian?’ Clare said, intrigued.

‘Aye, Maureen was tellin’ me earlier, when I spotted her down the shops. She said it was a wee foreign girl, doesn’t speak a word of English but is gay as the day’s long.’

Erin raised an eyebrow. ‘Aunt Sarah, did she by any chance say she was Lebanese?’

‘Aye, that was it, but sure they’ve all different names for it now, love,’ Sarah muttered, half-focused on the T.V.

Erin sighed, ‘No, Aunt Sarah, Lebanese means she’s from the Lebanon, not gay.’

‘Ach now Erin, just cause she’s foreign doesn’t mean she can’t be a lesbian, love.’

Erin sighed, ‘I give up.’

A few minutes later they were sat round the dinner table, chatting and eating, when suddenly, there was a bang and the living-room was thrown into darkness. Everyone jumped, and there was a clatter and the sound of a plate being knocked over and smashing on the floor.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Erin panicked as she tried to see in the pitch black room, but to no avail. She felt her chest tighten as she reached out, only to grasp at nothing, the dark space closing around her. 

Then, she felt a hand close around hers, warm and solid. ‘It’s okay,’ a familiar voice murmured, and squeezed her hand. Erin felt her breathing steady again, and slowly the room came into focus. It was dark, but she could make out the shapes of the family around the table.

‘What’s happening?’ Clare called out tentatively.

Beside Erin, Michelle made a disgusted noise, ‘Fuck’s sake! Who spilled the Coke?’

‘It’s alright girls, the power’s just gone out,’ the voice of Gerry said from across the table.

‘Ach, this is like that bit in the film, before they all get killed by the masked man,’ Orla’s spaced-out voice floated across the table.

‘What?!’ Clare’s terrified voice squeaked out.

From across the living-room, Gerry sighed as he peered out through the curtain. ‘Whole street’s out. Must be the storm.’

‘Where are the bloody torches?’ Mary groaned, her footsteps clacking off the tiles as she tried to find her way.

‘Just stay put, Mary, they’re out of batteries anyway,’ Gerry replied.

‘What? Gerry, those are the emergency torches, what’re we gonna do?’ Mary’s voice began to take on a panicked note.

‘Look, it’s alright-’

‘Oh sweet Jesus, those wains have to be home later tonight! And I can’t phone their mothers, the phone’ll be dead! They’ll think they’ve been stranded out in that bloody rain, and they’ll blame me, Gerry! They’ll be sitting at home worried sick thinkin’ their wains are out lost in a feckin’ storm! They can’t even walk home, the bloody street lamps are out!’

‘Mary, just calm down-’

‘Calm down, Gerry?! How the hell are we supposed to last the night with no torches, three extra mouths to feed and torrential feckin’ weather?!’

‘Mary, first off, we have an entire dinner on the table, so nobody’s starving to death. Erin’s friends can sleep over, the rain will be gone by morning and we have candles we can light. Just relax, it’ll be fine.’

‘Fine. But you’re gonna have to find those candles, cause my nerves can’t take much more of this.’

***  
Hours later, Erin was lying in bed, wide awake. Rain battered the windows and the low rumble of thunder sounded. Sleep would not come to her. She couldn’t get comfortable, her bed was that overcrowded - Clare, Orla and Michelle took up almost all the room, the three of them sprawled out and snoring, and every time Erin tried to take a piece of the duvet to keep warm, Michelle would yank it back, mumble “motherfucker” in her sleep and doze off again. 

And as if all that wasn’t enough, every time Erin closed her eyes, she couldn’t relax. Every pitter-patter of rain against the window, every gust of wind, every roll of thunder made her jumpy and anxious. This wasn’t like her. She sighed and glanced out of the window, rivulets of rain running down the glass. Bloody storm…

She sat up, a yawn escaping her mouth. Maybe a glass of milk would help her sleep… Carefully, she crept out of bed and tiptoed across the room so as not to wake anyone up. She was a foot from the door when her foot landed on something solid and a groan sounded from the floor.

‘Ughh… what the hell…?’ James moaned groggily. Erin hastily removed her foot from his stomach. James rubbed sleep from his eyes. ‘…Erin? What are you doing, it’s the middle of the night.’

Erin shifted her feet slightly. ‘I… I couldn’t sleep.’

‘What, because of the storm?’ James sat up, his face quirking slightly. ‘I didn’t think you were the type to be scared of a thunderstorm.’

‘I’m not!’ Erin whispered indignantly, feeling embarrassment flush to her cheeks. ‘It’s just, you know, an inconvenience!’

‘Hey, relax,’ James said, putting his hands up in mock defense. ‘It’s not a bad thing.’  
There was a silence, when from outside a crack of lightning flashed at the window. Erin visibly jumped, a small squeak escaping her. She glanced at James. ‘Alright, so maybe I’m the tiniest bit scared,’ she muttered, only slightly bitterly.

James simply smiled kindly and patted the spot beside him. ‘Why don’t you stay with me, take your mind off of it. Doesn’t look very roomy over there anyway,’ he nodded towards the bed, where the snoring form of Michelle had now spread herself over the rest of the mattress.

Erin didn’t reply, but lay down beside him, awkwardly curling herself up on the floor. ‘Here,’ James murmured, passing her a pillow and spreading the blanket he was using more evenly over them both. ‘Comfy?’ Erin simply nodded, for once in her life at a loss for words. She’d never so much as held hands with a boy, and now she was practically sharing a bed with one. But was James a boy to her? Well, obviously he was a boy, but she’d never thought of him like that. He was a mate. But then why was she feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden? 

Outside the window above them, the storm raged on, rain and wind battering the house. Erin shivered as a roll of thunder sounded, and she shut her eyes, trying to block it out. Subconsciously, she curled closer towards James, his warmth and solid form comforting. She felt her head rest on the fabric of his t-shirt and her hand curl into the arm he had draped across his stomach. And, to her surprise, he didn’t move or stop her. In fact, he seemed to shift closer, one arm moving to encircle her back and draw comforting circles on her shoulder, soothing and soft. And soon, the storm drifted out of Erin’s mind, sleep in its place.


End file.
